Critical Mass: A Sec
by Finite Infinity
Summary: First in Critical Mass Series.  Omega is a very scary place, as our heroine, sadly lacking in a strong self preservation instinct will tell you.  Warning Self Insert but not typical, will be frought with original characters.
1. Omega

Written 02/27/11.

Disclaimer: No I do not own Mass Effect, but they may have set up an illegal occupation in my head.

_Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will. _

_-Mohandas Gandhi _

Omega

So walking down the street from class in a snow storm is never fun. Wearing too many clothes, a cowl that cuts off peripheral vision, and glasses that, as consequence of the cowl, fog up and make it _very_ difficult to see, was never my favourite part of winter. I felt very fortunate that I had not been an unwitting participant in a hit and run yet, emphasis on the yet, but everyone's luck runs out some time. The time my luck ran out was just about when I ran into the Vorcha. Definite lack of luck right there.

It was, not to be clichéd, a very ordinary winter day, as in it was cold, wet and slushy. It was a few weeks after my 21st birthday and after spring break. I was sloughing my way back and forth to classes, trying desperately to push my GPA up every miniscule point I could. That is, when I was not immersed in whichever story that had caught my attention at the moment. I was at the time quite enamoured with Mass Effect 2, though I had never played the first game. Something about the game spoke to me, which is fair. I have always thought that important memories do not just reverberate forward in time, but backwards as well. I once met a dear friend that way, I recognized her, but she said we had never met before. It led to a beautiful friendship. So, it was fitting, that the stories of the Mass Effect universe were going to become very significant to me.

That day I was focused on the fact that if I was a second late, I would end up waiting at the bus stop for an hour, in the dark, in the snow. I had already caught the flu once that year and was in no hurry to repeat the experience. So when the universe shifted, and where before there had been another classmate I had been trailing, there was a blurry, yet skinny figure blocking my path, running directly into him, I think, was excusable. Of course I can understand why the vorcha did not agree with me.

"Stupid human!" It, or was it he? Snarled and pushed me back. His very warm and pointy hand slammed into my shoulder, my leather jacket muffled the hit, a little. I stumbled a bit, but caught my footing. Despite being dressed for the weather I'd worn my running shoes, I was getting really tired of boots.

I looked up at him my glasses still foggy, the vorcha still concealed by an indiscernible fog. "Sorry," the apology came to my lips without hesitance. Of course it also came out high pitched and breathy as an asari dancer looking for a big tip, but that was just me being surprised, honest. Okay, so I was a little embarrassed I had run into someone, I never run into people.

"Go away human," the blurry humanoid hissed. Now I was not completely oblivious. Something strange was going on. Not every day a person gets addressed as "human," like it's a dirty word. I whispered another apology, embarrassed, and walked onwards, my glasses clearing up very quickly. I was a bit surprised by what I saw... Okay I was verging on a panic attack but I like to remember handling it with more grace.

I was on some kind of main road, there were people everywhere. It was dark and claustrophobic, people were pressed closely together, pushing through each other or moving with the traffic, it felt like a New York City subway tunnel. And when I say people, I do not mean humans, sure they were there and there were a lot of them, but they were not even a quarter of the mass of bodies pressing together. The moment I saw an alcove on the path, I stepped in. I tore off my cowl, pulling my hair into the rough formation of bird's nest, and furiously wiped my glasses off on my shirt hem.

"Shit." It did not help. From my tiny alcove, so close I could reach out and touch, I was being passed by a few turians dressed in armour, suspiciously blue and white armour, a couple Asari in long dresses, another turian who seemed to be following the Asari, two very frightening batarians, and an honest to the Cosmos elcor.

A freaking elcor. With a bright blue hat.

I was in some kind of tunnel. It was dark, dirty, loud and smelled terribly like an open sewer. And even though my perspective was a little off, it looked terribly familiar.

Now despite that fact I had not realised I was on Omega yet, I probably should have had better sense than to just sit down. Rendering oneself prone on a busy Omega street is not generally thought of as good survival instinct. But my brain was reaching critical mass and all those extra functions, like standing up and blinking, were using up valuable processing power. And when I went down I went down hard. I think that bruise on my butt lasted a good month. I was gaping at the crowd, like a slack mouthed yokel, I was just so shocked.

I was staring, at aliens, from a video game. I had run into one, and my shoulder still felt the sting from the push the alien,_ the vorcha_, had given me, so I did not think I was hallucinating. Probably. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and slowly, ever so slowly opened them again. Nope still there, oh and I also saw my first Salarian, and she was female. Female Salarian, so by that point I was pretty sure I was not dreaming. I do not think my mind would have come up with what she looked like. She was as amphibious as the male of the species, yet lacking the horns and much more petite. She was actually kind of cute to be honest. Just to be sure I closed my eyes again, stood up carefully, and pinched myself, hard. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when I felt the sting.

There was a blue krogan in heavy black armour looking at me, okay glaring but in my defence krogan almost always glare.

He was still glaring at me, and not moving, forcing the foot traffic to divide around him, like water around a stone.

"Uh, sorry," I apologized again in what had probably been ten minutes, "Is this your... spot? I'll just go, I didn't mean to..." I spoke breathily, trying to smile. You see, I am Canadian. Very, very Canadian. And I fully embrace the Canadian identity of polite and kind. It had always seemed to work out very well for me in the past. Of course that was not a day of things working out for me.

"Give me your bag human," the krogan growled. Now he was by all means a very intimidating example of krogan, big, very big, but not many scars. He was a full head taller than me, not counting his prominent hump. Unexpectedly it was quite off-putting to be spoken to by a _blue_ person.

"What?" I asked, still a little dazed. I was adjusting to the moment but not quite quickly enough. In hindsight maybe the fact I was a little dazed and confused, okay a lot, led to my obtuse act of stupidity, but then again I have been told insanity runs in the family.

The krogan stepped forward, reached out and grabbed the strap of my backpack. His claws scratched my coat as he clenched the strap. "Give me your bag human, or I will take it," he growled at me. Surprisingly merciful for a krogan I have always thought since then, especially on Omega. So my response probably was not indicative of a healthy self preservation instinct.

"No. Let me go," I told the krogan. The forcefulness of his grab had jerked me close to him and quickly inspired the more aggressive side of my personality. I had no weapons, no chance of fighting the krogan, and apparently no common sense. I looked the Krogan in the eye, deep and black, glaring.

"Don't be stupid human, I will kill you," the krogan told me, thundering at me, growling. I could feel his hot breath on my face, it was not pleasant. My heart was pounding, my shoulder throbbing, but my mind had stilled. I do not mean I had collected my thoughts, quite the opposite actually. The only thing between my ears was my pulse.

"I said let me go." It came out low and soft. My face was calm. I reached up to grab his arm that was holding me. I looked up at his face, my was body almost pressed flush against his, we were separated by a scant few centimetres of air. I was off balance, my weight was mostly being supported by the krogan. I should have been terrified, but I was not. My mind was empty then, but I look back and wonder, what if that had been it? In that moment I caressed my death like a lover, for the first time. It was intimate and arousing, terrifying and debilitating. But in that moment I was nothing but a very stupid girl, staring down a large and frightening krogan. Over her backpack.

The world had faded around us. My focus had been consumed and conquered by the Krogan towering over me. He leaned closer to me, pulling me up to the level of his eyes. I stared him down as best I could, I think I focused on his right eye, they were so far apart. The eyes was black, deep and large. He spoke again, revealing his very sharp teeth. "What did you say human?" He growled his words at me, his breathe a noxious gas.

For a moment we stared at each other. It was a single moment in time, infinite and instantaneous. He wanted my possessions, but more than that he wanted my fear. I gave him neither. It was a very small, very important moment in my life.

And then the moment ended and the krogan's head exploded.

"She said let her go. Twice."

The Krogan fell limply back from me, a look of stunned surprise on his face. His claws cut at my bag, nearly pulling me down. The world around me flooded back into my senses, the noise, the smell and the heat hit me like a grenade, overwhelming me. I was covered in the Krogan's hot orange blood and tissue. The smell was awful, like acid crawling into my nose. I let out a strangled sound and wiped at my face, desperately trying to remove the gore.

"Wait! Here. Use this!" A cool cloth was pressed into my hand. "Treated with medi-gel. Will prevent rash."

I wiped furiously at my eyes and face. The cloth tingled coldly against my skin, relieving the sudden sting from the alien blood. I cleaned off my glasses as best I could with a clean corner of the cloth. I put my nearly clean glasses back on and looked at the ground, at the dead krogan at my feet. Or he would have been dead if he had not been a krogan. One side of his face was scorched and blackened with a small orange hole, and the other side of his face was a much larger and messier hole. His intact face, stared up at me in disbelief and then unconsciousness. I drew a deep shuddering breath, and looked at the person who had shot my krogan.

"Hello. I am Dr. Mordin Solus. Are you all right?"


	2. The Clinic

Written 03/07/11.

Disclaimer: I have no claim on Mass Effect, though it has ravaged my mind, body and spirit.

_Courage may be taught as a child is taught to speak._

_-Euripides_

The Clinic

I wish that upon meeting Dr. Solus for the first time that I had been more eloquent, responsive even. But after the danger of my krogan mugger had passed, with the krogan earning two messy new holes in his head, I seemed to lose the ability to articulate past a grunt or squeak. Which is a shame, because I always had dreamt that if I ever met Dr. Solus, I would impress him with my own quick wit. And it was indeed the great Dr. Solus who had saved me. He looked a little younger than he did in the game, and he was not wearing his outfit either. Besides his holstered gun it looked like he was wearing Salarian casual wear. It was a form fitting burgundy outfit, with a short jacket in a slightly darker shade.

I was staring at him. He was staring back, waiting for an answer. I think he was trying to smile at me, comfortingly, but I was too far gone to care or realize it. "What year is it?" I blurted out without thinking. I winced and took a sharp breath, looking closely at Mordin's reaction. It was all in all not the best way to avoid drawing attention to the fact that I was very out of place in that world, in that galaxy.

Mordin frowned a little and told me, "Omega lacking in calendar, usually go by galactic standard. Galactic year is usually of little relevance," he hummed to himself for a second thinking. "Ahh, human, would want date in relation to home planet Earth!" He smiles again and raises his wrist and activates his omni-tool. I do not remember if he noticed me gasp, I certainly did not have the presence of mind to conceal my surprise.

Seeing an omni-tool for the first time was wondrous and frightening. It was the first real holographic technology I had ever seen. Pictures and simulations in movies just did not compare to seeing the light form a solid display and interface. Seeing the soft glow of the omni-tool, and it's actively moving display suddenly grounded me. It was so unexpectedly real, that my mind was finally able to comprehend what had happened, where I was. I was on Omega, a fictional place in a fictional galaxy that was populated by fictional species and characters.

One of these fictional characters was Mordin Solus, a Salarian, who delivered unto me an unexpected revelation. "The date by Earth standard is the tenth of March, 2180," he paused for a second, "C.E." he added helpfully.

Seeing my first sample of futuristic technology had grounded me, but the date Mordin gave me set my mind off in another spiral. 2180? That was three years before the first game and five before the second. I was barely familiar with anything from the first game, just what was referenced after. I had always imagined what it would be like to join Shepard's crew and save the galaxy, but I was not even in the right time. Only I could screw up slipping through the fabric of space and time like this.

It seemed like a thousand thoughts swirled through my head all at once. _How did this happen, and why? Was I here for a reason, or by accident? I had been satisfied with the decisions of a paragon Shepard. I had never felt the need to change that story, I had never felt I could have done better than her. So why? What possible reason was I here? If it was just random, what should I do? Should I try to help Shepard, or would I ruin her path? Assuming Shepard was a she in this universe, or a paragon for that matter. Should I try to blend in? Should I tell the truth?_

Dr. Solus observed me closely as I became overwhelmed by my thoughts once again. He held a fist to his chin and tucked his other arm across his chest, thinking for a moment. It was rare Mordin ever needed more than a moment to think. He reached a decision and gently placed a three fingered hand on my back. "Come with me. I will help you," he told me, though the words did not penetrate the haze of my thoughts. I followed him docilely, he guided me with words and light touches, but I barely acknowledged him. My mind was racing, forming theories, examining them, rejecting most keeping others. He guided me carefully around the twitching krogan, that was slowly beginning to heal on the ground. Its eyes stared fixedly at the spot where I had been standing, the krogan was unconscious for all that his eyes were open.

_Should I just try to blend into the galaxy and feign ignorance of what is to come? No, I could not do that. I was not a warrior or genius, I probably would not be very helpful to Shepard. I had fired a gun before, an hour at a shooting range on a very bad date, but that was not quite combat experience. But I had five years to prepare, I could join the army and try to get myself assigned to the Normandy. No, there was no record of me in this universe, I would never get through screening. No record of my existence, unless there had been a me in this universe, nearly 200 years ago. That would not be helpful either. I would need conceal my identity. Should I try to warn people what was coming? Would anyone listen? Judging by the response to Shepard's warnings, it seemed unlikely. But I still needed to help, just because Shepard succeeds in a video game, did not mean she would in this universe._

Mordin guided me through the familiar yet unfamiliar world. If I had not been busy trying to process, I would have been staring at everything. I passed batarians and turians in the streets, humans, asari and every other sentient species. And not just the examples that had been present in the games, but females of every kind, children and no one was limited to the game archetype for their species. The variety was stunning, or it would have been if I had not already been stunned. Before I could realize what I was not paying attention to, Mordin ushered me through a door (it made a whooshing sound and everything,) and into his clinic.

"Dr. Solus! You promised you'd take the day off," an exasperated quarian reprimanded Mordin as he led me in. She was a few inches taller than my own 5'4, her suit was mostly dark blue in colour. The cloth of her suit was a field of white stars on dark blue, the metal of the suit was grey blue. If I had bothered to look I would have had to examine my previous belief that quarians beside Tali'Zorah and Kal'Reegar all seemed to blend together. I had to let go of a lot of assumptions that were created by the limitations of a video game as a form of media.

"Not professional, personal. Will be in patient room three, please do not disturb," Mordin told the quarian as he led me through the back. Compared to the relative chaos of the clinic during the plague, the clinic Mordin led me through was quite clean and professional looking. There were quite a few people in the waiting area as we passed through, but none looked to be in dire straits. If I had been paying attention I would have felt guilty for monopolizing Dr. Solus.

He led me down a hall and into a small room. It was very much the standard doctor's office, but it had posters and models of drell, asari and batarian anatomy in addition to human ones. It was a room for seeing humanoid patients. Mordin had me sit down on an examination bed, and then turned to the cupboards on the other wall. The room was small enough that it was two small steps between the medical bed and the cupboards. He withdrew a small metal device, a medical scanner I guessed after he pointed it at me and it bathed me in a beam of orange light. He had caught my attention again, rending me from my internal dilemma.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, then bit my lip. Was my ignorance of the future showing?

"Standard medical scan, non invasive. Hm, interesting. Lack standard immunizations, lack basic genetic modifications, basic medical problems, hormonal imbalances, unusual." His fingers tapped against the interface on the device, his rapidly changing alien expression was impossible to follow. "Teeth show signs of primitive correction. Minor scarring above right eye should have been easily avoidable unless destitute," he quickly looked up at me then back to his device, "No, no signs of malnutrition and manner of dress does not suggest poverty. Yet clearly not modern human fashions," he hummed again to himself, "Ah!" He scanned me again, tapping rapidly against the scanner's screen. Then he frowned, "No sign of muscle or tissue damage, no degeneration from excessive exposure to subzero temperatures, no sign of recovery either. That leaves one improbable answer," he turned and put down the scanner on a counter not looking at me, "What is your name?" he asked.

For a moment I was startled to finally be addressed. Listening to him think had been distracting, he had always been one of my favourite characters. For a moment after I realized what he had asked, I rapidly debated with myself what to tell him, "Um..." My eyes rapidly darted around the room trying to think, to tell the truth or to lie? Would my identity be dangerous? "My name," I paused and took a breath, centering myself, "My name is Kelly," surely a first name would not matter. His back to me, his head snapped up from between his shoulders, he had been leaning forward, slumped into the counter.

"Kelly? Common human name, not a useful indication..." he trailed off for a moment, "No, if the possible is eliminated, what remains is the truth, no matter the improbability," he turned to look at me, he braced himself against the counter, an uncharacteristic pose for him I thought.

"You asked me what year it was. What year did you expect it to be?" Mordin asked me casually, as if time travel was as much a doctor's daily business as a cold. His expression was mild, not betraying anything. He even had a small smile for me, to try and put me at my ease.

"I-uh..." I stammered for a second, "What-, what are you talking about?" I managed to retaliate. I sweated under my heavy winter clothes, from more than just the heat now. Twenty minutes in Omega and I had already been discovered. This was not what I had imagined at all.

"Obvious displacement is obvious," he scoffed deadpan, "Lack any signs of modern medical intervention and dressed in nearly historic human clothing, similar to that depicted in media from 21st century North America. Argued with krogan for possessions. Have shown no familiarity with modern technology, even a simple omni-tool surprised you," so he did notice that. "No characteristics of a renaissance cult. No signs of cryogenics," his statements started to be more forceful as he reached his conclusion. "Not only walked into a Vorcha, but apologized. Twice. Were stunned and stopped to stare at non-humans who did nothing remarkable. Behaviour only rational if experiencing intense disbelief. Constant behaviour indicative of sudden displacement from expected surroundings. Sudden and unexpected." He finished and took a breath, his large dark eyes bore into mine, waiting for a response.

I looked down. I closed my eyes, took a breath and gathered my wits and courage. I braced myself sitting on the edge of the medical bed, holding onto its edge. I will admit I wavered uncertainly for a moment, unsure, but I found my resolve. I was no simpering child, I would not panic or shy away from this. I looked back up at Mordin's dark alien eyes. "I think it would be very bad if I told you the details Dr. Solus," I swallowed, and clenched my jaw, gathering myself. "Your conclusion is correct. I'm not from here, this time or place."

"Do you know how or why? Why would revealing details be 'very bad'?" he asked eagerly. He leaned forward from the counter, his excitement obvious.

"I don't know how, or why, but it's not time travel. I'm sure that it's not time travel. I think I'm from an alternate dimension, do you know the infinite dimension theory?" I was calming, my hands began to unclench, my knuckles popping. I had not realized I had such a hold on the bed.

"Yes, very familiar. Often discredited for lack of evidence. Often compared to religion in scientific viability. Suggest that you originate from an alternate universe. Firmly rejects time travel. Body language now suggests familiarity," sudden understanding dawned on his face, "Rejection of time travel comes from knowledge about this universe! Multi-dimensional theory suggests that in infinite dimensions other fiction is reality. Familiarity suggests that this universe is familiar, unwillingness to discuss origins suggests knowledge of universe, of events yet to come!"

Mordin seemed pleased with his hypothesis. He smiled widely and offered, "Reluctance to discuss origins is unwarranted," he told me kindly, "simply avoid topic of dangerous knowledge."

He was right, but... "You promise not to tell anyone? If people knew or guessed..."

"Shocking suggestion Kelly, doctor patient confidentiality sacred, would never violate. Even so, no one would believe me."

He was right with a minor flaw, "But I'm not your patient," I pointed out obstinately.

He blinked, "True. Will rectify." He turned around again and rummaged through his cupboards and took out three vials and a device that looked an awful lot like a futuristic syringe.

He saw my noticeable change of expression, I was nearly phobic of needles. "Do not worry, theoretically technology has improved considerably. Will not hurt," he told me, pressing buttons on the syringe's advanced interface.

I learned that day that Dr. Solus is not only a brilliant doctor but a lying son of a female Varren. He loaded each of the vials into the syringe, "Please remove your coat. Need to inject at external carotid artery," I blinked at him and raised a brow questioningly, "Ahem. Side of neck. Left side."

I was quickly growing warm anyway, so I removed my heavy leather coat and my black hoodie underneath, revealing my, oh so sophisticated, black t-shirt and blue jean ensemble. At least the t-shirt had a flattering neckline. When I sat back on the medical bed, (or are they called tables?) Mordin stepped forward and smiled reassuringly, "Will correct minor chemical imbalances and repair damaged tissue and genes. Standard package for humans. Also includes important immunizers. Third vial beginning of standard gene modification, most humans would receive at birth."

He continued as he stabbed me with the syringe. He pressed a button and it depressed with a release of air. He was unperturbed by my indignant yelp of pain and protest. "Will eliminate most known genetic disease. Will strengthen immune system, natural healing. Unlikely to encourage further growth, already an adult, but possible. With secondary treatment, will increase strength and endurance. Other effects technical, unlikely to understand, not important." He put the syringe away and grabbed another device from a shelf. Did he always have all these devices on hand or was I just lucky?

"Lie back please, remove corrective lenses and keep eyes open," he instructed. With some trepidation I did as he instructed, rubbing at my neck. Another bruise already. Not a good indication of things to come from Omega. Mordin briefly revealed the device to me, another handheld device with digital interface, but this one tipped with a long, sharp point. Then, taking advantage of my widened eyes, he, quick as a flash, stabbed me in one eye and then the next. It was a shallow pricking, but surprisingly painless, just a quick electric shock followed by a cool tingling sensation. It did cause me tear up, but as I blinked rapidly and reached up to my eyes, Mordin gently caught my wrist. "Please do not stimulate eyes beyond blinking, will cause irritation." And then the sneak stabbed me in the throat again with the syringe!

"What the hell?" I asked angrily and pushed him away.

"Necessary. Injection will work with surgery to correct vision. Deception used to avoid protest," he explained calmly. "Now," he cleared his throat, "now have doctor patient relationship. Assured of confidentiality."

He certainly had made his point, not without making me suffer for it though, but not without purpose. "Yeah, I feel really reassured," I grumbled then sighed, "Thank you." I blinked again, sitting up fully, and looked at him, he was blurrier than he usually would have been without my glasses on. "What did you do to my eyes?"

"Minor corrective surgery. Decrease in clarity will resolve in a few hours, depending on natural healing ability and severity of lens curvature. Will increase clarity of vision to higher than average." I raised my brow at him in question, he seemed to understand my expression, "Professional pride in work. Enjoy providing best treatment available with easiest access."

He smiled and sat down on the small stool next to the bed, he looked up at me and asked, "Now will you tell me?" I could almost feel his curiosity choking him.

For a moment I hesitated, but he was right. As long as I did not reveal what I knew about this universe and he believed me, there was no harm. I really could not screw things up too badly, could I? "Okay. My name is Kelly, but I can't tell you my last name because there might have been an alternate me in this universe 200 years ago," I told Mordin, searching his face. He nodded and leaned forward, hands his knees, the picture of an apt pupil. I smiled at the image of him as a student, he probably had same eagerness then. "I was born on February 19, 1990," I hesitate and add, "On Earth. But that's kinda obvious, huh?"

"No idea. Humans in your universe could have had begun space travel earlier. However, not the case?" he asked.

"No. Humans in my universe have a very similar history to those in this one. I don't know what our eventual future is in space. When I woke up this morning the year was 2011. I just know that this place, Omega?" I stated as a question looking at Mordin, he nodded, "Omega is fiction in my universe and so are salarians, krogan, asari and nearly everything else in this dimension," I confessed passionately, waiting for the doctor's reaction. Mordin looked unexpectedly pleased.

"Amazing. Support for multi-dimensional theorem is unprecedented. Should write a paper," he closed his eyes and frowned, cocked his head to the side, "No. Little evidence," he looked back at me and smiled, "Also violates doctor patient confidentiality," he teased.

"Is interdimensional travel common in your universe?" Mordin asked.

"No, but there is a lot of fiction about the concept. The theory always made sense to me. But I don't know how I got here," I gestured at the room with both my arms, "Because of the concept of infinity I believe that anything is possible, but most things are very unlikely. It's just possible I'm here because... I don't know, our dimensions brushed against each other and I was just in the right place at the right time," I suggested half heartedly. I did not really believe myself, the chances of spontaneous dimensional travel would have already been nearly non-existent. And to on top of that, end up in this dimension, of all possible ones. Even just spontaneously ending up in a random unknown dimension was about as close to impossible as most things went.

"Fascinating. How much do you know about this universe?" He raised a hand to forestall my protests, "Factual information. Common knowledge. Will not ask for dangerous information. Need to know familiarity. Knowledge is power. On Omega power means survival."

I hesitated for a moment, looking away and biting my lip, but then I looked back at him, or the blurry shape that resembled him and said, "This universe is a story in my universe, a game. I'm sure not everything I know is accurate but I know a bit about each sentient species, different places in the galaxy, its history. I'm most familiar with the Terminus system, but I know a little about most important places. I know quite a bit of trivial trivia," I said with a weak smile, "I don't know a lot of the basics of functioning in this world though," I admitted. I wondered how toilets work on Omega.

"All knowledge is precious. Important. Better that you have some than none," he told me comfortingly. I smiled more strongly at him, he smiled back and continued, "Tell me more about you Kelly," he implored.

"Okay, I'm from Ottawa, Ontario, the capitol of Canada," he nodded, "I'm a university student, third year Criminology Studies. I was planning to apply to law school next year. I want to be a prosecutor and eventually a judge..." I trailed off, "Well that was the plan at least," I sighed and continued, "My Dad's military so I've lived in a lot of different places, on Earth that is. My Mom's a nurse and my little brother is two years younger than me," I smiled again, "The little monkey didn't bother with university, he was recruited for the Olympics right from High School, he runs like a gazelle."

I blinked in realization, "There's probably record of him, if he ever made it to the Olympics. I can't use my last name, it's not a common one, if anyone looked they'd be able to find me, the one from this universe, easily."

"Possible but not certain. May not be another you in this universe. Not time travel. May have never existed. But," he breathed, "Caution is warranted."

He looked at me, examining me, "Aware Omega is dangerous?" he asked me, tone serious.

"Yes, several parts of the story took place on Omega," I bit my tongue and pressed my lips together tightly, not wanting to give away anything else.

"Too dangerous for student, even criminology student," he said gently, "Have family on Citadel. Sister. Can take you to her tomorrow. Will need to make arrangement for temporary absence. Months since last contacted sister, but should be willing to help in adjustment-"

"No." I said, interrupting him. It took me a second to understand what he was planning. When I did understand I knew it was not an option. He wanted to take me somewhere safe, the Citadel, put me out of harm's way. It was very kind of him, he had no reason to stick his neck out for me like that. I was nothing to him but an exciting scientific discovery that he could do nothing about. He wanted to protect me, save me, help me. He did not think I could handle Omega.

But if I could, if I could survive Omega, I could survive anything.

"No," I repeated to Mordin as he regarded me, questioningly, "I'm staying on Omega."


	3. Inventory

Written 03/23/11

Disclaimer: I only write this so I can sleep at night, not for money.

Author's Note: This chapter got away from me a little, but the reviews I have received excited me so much that I'm posting it and starting the next immediately. Thank you Kudara, thiefkingbakura1 and Titus Tatius. _Hint: More reviews more writing. They're like crack for me. Seriously, three words, I'll love you forever._

_All men by nature desire to know._

_-Aristotle_

Inventory

It took me the better part of an hour to convince Mordin that I should stay on Omega. I had trouble convincing him, without hinting too much at what I knew of the future. He relented, reluctantly, when I promised that if I had too much difficulty adjusting I would accept his offer and go to the much safer Citadel. He also made me promise that I would not let 'typical human ego' prevent me from admitting my mistake.

By convincing Mordin I convinced myself as well. When I first refused, my plan had been pretty rough and half-formed. I knew I wanted to help, but I knew that I did not possess the... necessary skill set to be of much use, to Shepard that is. It was a little egotistical on my part to think that I could make a difference, naive even. But I just could not let me doubt rule me. People say it is only those who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, who do change the world. Something similarly insane must be applicable here, I was convinced. Not to mention Shepard can use any help she can get. In my playthrough of the game alone she died many, many times. Just imagining all the various times she has died in other people's games, the odds were definitely against her.

Not to mention that if I was here by chance, that meant I would likely never go home again.

But if I did this, if I survived Omega, if I became... more, I could help. I could make sure the story went right. True enough I doubted I could help with the first part of the story, but that would make sense. If Shepard could not defeat Saren in the first place, without my help, then I doubt she could stand up to the Reapers. Or something like that. I did not want to ponder what would happen if she did not stop Saren, that seemed like it would be a very poor twist of fate. So I would wait on Omega, and keep a close eye on Mordin. I believed I could survive Omega, and grow strong. Strong enough to make sure events unfolded properly after Shepard's resurrection, when the stakes would be highest. It was all that was left to me now.

Or at least I was thinking something to that effect. I was also thinking very bad things about Mordin as I alternatively, shivered, sweated and vomited, violently. The moment I promised Mordin I would not let my human ego prevent me from admitting defeat, I was hit with a powerful, hot wave of nausea. It was very fortunate for Mordin's footwear he was quick with a bucket, because I was caught entirely off guard.

"Ah. Side effects of injections. Expected. Will pass as body adjusts," He offered comfortingly, "Symptoms may include nausea, increase or decrease of body temperature and pain at injection site."

Mordin had an interesting way of simplifying things. I spent the next five or so hours in that little room, going between bone chilling lows, and brain melting fevers. He also failed to mention the massive and painful cramping, everywhere. And that my eyes would start itching and burning like I'd just stuck my face into a cat's pelt (I have a cat allergy.) It was, however, consistent with how my day had been going so far, but trying not to complain to Mordin as the hours wore on was difficult. I have never been much for suffering in silence, but it would hardly assure him of my fortitude if this defeated me. So I held back, mostly. I was not able to prevent myself from crying and whimpering during the violent vomiting, but he refrained from making any comment.

Mordin went in and out of the office over the course of my five hours of suffering. He gave me a few things to drink that he said would help lessen the symptoms, which made me wonder what the full effects would have been like, and he brought me a few things. First he brought a blanket when the first wave of chills hit me, a blanket that was very nice and warm and fuzzy, that I still recall quite fondly. Did I mention there was a touch of delirium to go with all the other symptoms? What was in those injections? Mordin never adequately explained. He also brought me three of the necessities for living in this galaxy.

I think at first he was searching for a way to distract me from my nausea, and to keep me talking about my world. He asked a lot of questions about the differences between our universes, and I think I may have slipped a few things that I should not have. His curiosity was difficult to curtail. He was also very sneaky about it, as he questioned me he distracted me with the gift of my very own omni-tool. It was a very basic model, a few years old and may or may not have come from a deceased patient, he hinted, and I stopped asking.

My eyes had adjusted enough so I could see the omni-tool projection. Mordin showed me how to access the basic functions, translator, extranet and most other basic programs that my computer used to do. It even had Tetris! Sadly if I tried focusing too intently on the blocks my stomach started to move up my throat. Mordin set me up with a few various tutorials, not just about the omni-tool, but also on some day to day skills that I needed. These included, but were not limited to, how to use modern plumbing, how to recognize dextro-amino foods, how to use a sky car and how to avoid offending krogan. I think the last one was supposed to be funny.

When I was too tired to look at vids anymore I took a very brief nap. Brief because after fifteen minutes my muscles started painfully spasming. At that Mordin seemed briefly concerned. "Unusually severe reaction," he scanned me again with the orange light, "No organ failure. Must be caused by minute differences caused by one-hundred and ninety years difference in physiology."

That was not as comforting as he surely intended it to be, but the muscle spasms did pass after a few minutes. Most of my symptoms seemed to begin ebbing at that point, right around the four and a half hour mark. It is amazing how aware of time's passage I become when sick. Even despite the delirium.

"Tell me you didn't know I'd suffer like this?" I asked Mordin, moaning through the last of the cramps.

"Did not know," he admitted with humour, I think he was mocking me. Then he added a little sheepishly, "Was perhaps hasty. Should have made more thorough examination. Suppose lucky." He ignored my glare and bustled out of the office, "One moment." He came back with the other two gifts that were essential to surviving Omega.

A credit chit, and a gun.

He put the gun down on the counter and handed me the chit, "Know how to use chit?" he asked. It was a small circular metal disk, it was thick and round, with a digital readout on top. A thirty degree section of the disc was indented, black and rough, different from the smooth steel of the rest of the chit. The display was set at zero.

"No, the game was always a little inconsistent about credits and chits," I shrugged, "Will you show me how please?"

He smiled, "Happy to," He pulled another chit out of his coat pocket. He had changed into uniform after I had begun vomiting earlier. "Hold out chit," he told me gesturing. I held out my chit towards him, with the black section pointed towards him. He held out his chit, it was different than mine, white and shiny like a pearl, and pressed the depressed section of his against mine.

"Transfer one-hundred credits," he said. The chits chimed twice than made a small beep. I pulled back my chit and looked at the numbers. It read one-hundred now. Mordin smiled, "One-hundred credits should be enough to establish self. If at all capable," he teased.

I smiled, "Thanks Mordin," then with a smirk, "I'm sure it will be enough. In fact once I make my fortune I'll pay you back, double," I promised arrogantly. I probably was not reassuring him about my 'typical human ego.'

He chuckled, "Hope to see that," then asked, "Any experience with firearm?"

My smile dimmed and I gave a hesitant nod, "A little, but I have pretty good hand-eye coordination." He did not need to know most of that coordination was through video games.

He handed me the gun and I held it gingerly, remembering enough about the safety rules to point it at the floor. Honestly I remembered more about archery than guns. I had taken several weeks worth of lessons in archery. The gun lesson had just been a bad date that only got worse. It was cold and large in my hands. It had _TFX_ written on its side and a few glowing buttons. So far as I could tell the safety was on. When I put my hand around the grip it hummed to life, and a few small holographic readouts popped up.

I pointed to a switch on the butt, "That's the safety right?" I asked Mordin.

"Yes," he nodded, then he pointed to the various buttons and displays, patiently explaining them to me. He was very serious about me learning exactly how the gun worked and how to use it properly. After I could recite all of what he had told him back to him perfectly, he showed me how to change the sink, "Be cautious of used heat sink. Stores energy run-off. High temperature when spent. Several thousand Kelvin."

At that point we had reached about five hours into my symptoms and they had mostly dissipated. He led me out the back of the clinic. I think the quarian from before was watching us. I suppose Dr. Solus did not often bring 'personal not professional' patients to the clinic. As we walked out a question occurred to me. "Mordin, how long have you been running the clinic here?"

"Arrived on Omega thirteen Earth standard months ago. About four galactic standard cycles. Acquired clinic before arrival. Established two months after arrival," then his mouth twisted into a small dissatisfied frown, "Still not trusted. Handful of patients. Omega suspicious of free clinic," then he smiled and joked, "Should charge perhaps. Might increase patient number."

He led me to a small area behind the clinic with various dusty containers lying around. He stood me at one end of the room then set up a few small cans the length of the room. The cans all had this extremely happy looking Turian on it. He was giving a three fingered thumbs up and smiling with a mouthful of sharp fangs. The picture was a very distorted caricature of a turian. It was honestly one of the most disconcerting things I had seen all day.

Mordin came back to my end of the room and gestured at the cans, "Shoot them."

I had figured things might be going in that direction. So I picked the first can, tenderly switched off the safety and carefully levelled the pistol. I tried to recall how to stand and compensate for the recoil. I looked down the barrel at the can, the Turian grinned back, mocking me. My hand was trembling a little, I breathed out trying to steady myself. I glanced at Mordin from the corner of my eye. He was looking at me expectantly, at my glance he asked, "Waiting for something?" he pointed at the can, "Need to evaluate proficiency. Unless decided to relent and will go to Citadel? Pistol skill irrelevant then."

I glared for a second then turned back to the can. I lined up the shot, squeezed the trigger and... Blam! The recoil was less than I expected, but the gun still slammed up in my hand. The can had a hole dead center through the Turian's mouth. That is, the can five feet away from the one I had been aiming at. It fell to the ground with a tinny clang, and rolled away. Mordin coughed, drawing my attention. He was struggling to keep a straight face.

"I meant to do that," I assured him and turned away. He did snicker a little at that, but he smothered it behind a cough. I clenched my jaw and shot at the original can again. The shot flashed and left a hole burned into the storage container just below the can, I shot again and knocked it off.

"Good. Now the rest," Mordin said. I nodded solemnly without turning to look at him. I shot the next two closest cans in four shots, hitting the first immediately and missing with the next two shots. The last three cans were further back, the closest was about ten meters away, the other two about fifteen meters away. The first of them was tricky, it was half hidden behind the lip of the container, the turian's thumb on the can peeked out, just in sight. My first shot was too high and I left a small scorch mark in the back wall. I'll admit the excitement of using a laser blaster was getting to me a little. I was worried I was going to start quoting Star Wars any minute, which _would_ have been inappropriate. Mostly.

The second shot was too low and I winced at hitting the container, I had been trying to avoid that. I would not be prepared to do any sharp shooting anytime soon. I sighed and sighted the shot again and squeezed. The gun clicked ineffectively in my hand. I grinned ruefully and turned to Mordin, "Do I lose points for running out of shots?"

"No points. Learning process. Doing well. Change sink and continue," I began to change the sink cautiously as he continued, "Informal learning adaptive to individual strength. Learn by doing. Not by instruction. Practice creates skill. Requires persistence."

"I wish I'd had more professors like you Doctor," I snorted humorously. Then I jerked my head up in stunned realization. I waved one of my hands in front of my face and the searched my face for my glasses. I had never put them back on, but I could see the entire length of the room clearly. "My eyes! You fixed them! That's so cool!" I said with excitement.

Mordin chuckled good naturedly at me, "Yes. Eye issues resolved during preparations. Wondering when you would notice. Surprising amount of time. But perhaps excusable by adjustment to corrective lenses?" he pondered.

"Ha, yeah. I only ever think about my glasses when I get up or go to sleep, or if they're dirty," I admitted. I was a little perturbed that I had not noticed, but still very pleased. I had been dreaming of getting corrective surgery for years. Sure this was a little unexpected, but I was taking whatever wins I could today, all things considered. Mordin had even said my vision would be better than average, which had to count for something. Total expulsion from the only world I had ever known, for good vision. Talk about an offer you could not refuse.

I turned back to my target, taking a second to marvel at the clarity of my vision. My grin faltered when I looked at the turian caricature again. Then I blanched in realization, I was going to associate that turian, with the memory of being able to see again, for the rest of my life.

"Oh bugger," I swore softly. I let myself visualize the shot obliterating the can, and then I squeezed the trigger. The shot glanced off the side of the can, and it spun a little to the left away from the shot. Without hesitating I shot again and hit the can dead center. It crumpled from the force of the shot and jumped off its perch. I kept shooting and hit the next can without missing a beat. The last was flush against the opposite wall, my first shot hit a centimetre away on the left and my second shot missed on the right. My third shot hit and my fourth that came a second after. The can was shredded. I had slain all the psychotic turian caricatures. I fought valiantly not to strike a victory pose.

"Good for novice. Will need to continue to practice, but good enough," he said, "Would you like to try more targets?" Mordin was surprisingly patient for his hyperactive personality. I could not, however, shake the feeling that he was studying me with a certain amount of scientific curiosity. Sure enough when I switched the safety back on, and looked over at Mordin he had focused all of his attention on me.

He looked concerned as I handed him the gun, "Done with practice? Did not enjoy? Expected to continue. More targets available," he gestured to the open storage container that he had been leaning against. I looked in and shuddered. The container was filled with cans that all had the creepy turian caricature splashed across them.

"Ah, no. I mean, hold on a second. I'm gonna get my bag," I told him and trotted back in the clinic. I had left my bag in the office. It was not far from the back entrance. I passed the blue quarian from before. She looked at me, I think, it was difficult to tell through her helmet. I gave a tentative smile, a small wave and kept walking. Her face was of course unreadable, but she leaned back with her hands on her hips. I think she disapproved of Mordin spending his day off from the clinic, at the clinic, with some strange human girl. It was not a stretch of the imagination to think that Dr. Solus kept long hours.

I found the office and slung my bag on my shoulder. After a second thought I grabbed my coats too. This was Omega after all, it might not hurt to keep my possessions in sight. I went back out in the hall, passing the quarian again. This time she was talking to an asari and leading her into another room. I was not surprised that Mordin's assistant could move fast, she needed to keep up with him. I could only imagine that would be exhausting. The past six hours had been the longest of my life. But perhaps Mordin was not solely to blame for that. Although I probably could get away with it.

When I went back into the building behind the clinic, Mordin was setting up some of the cans in a pyramid. He was talking to himself, I stood in the doorway and watched him, listening, "Unexpected outcome. Dimensional disturbance probability statistically infinitesimal. Shows no signs of deception. Answers consistent. Extroverted. Humorous. Alliance or Cerberus special operations agent would be older, less genuine. Elaborate set up? No cause. Not STG anymore," apparently Mordin was more suspicious of me then I thought. I let him ramble on to himself, and he finished stacking the cans. He walked to the front of the room, and still deep in debate with himself, he did not notice me. He drew his own sidearm in a sudden movement. The instant his arm was level with the cans he started firing. One by one the cans were knocked off the pyramid, each one falling without disturbing the other cans. It was _awesome_.

"Whoa... Suddenly my own limited success seems more... limited," I sighed from the doorway. Mordin spun towards me, gun still aloft. I held up my empty arm in surrender, "Hey! Hold fire!"

Mordin blinked, and then hastily pointed the gun up at the ceiling, "Forgive me. Did not notice you," he apologized and holstered his gun. He had left the pistol I had used on one the many storage containers. I wondered briefly what was in the containers. Hopefully not medical supplies or mechs. Probably just more junk like the empty cans... I hoped.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to surprise you. I was watching you shoot. You're really good," I told him. I put my coats down next to the pistol and hefted my bag on top of them. I unzipped it and pulled out my laptop. I explained, "I realized something after I shot those targets," I flipped my laptop upside down on the container, "I have a better target right here." I popped the hard-drive out of my laptop and flashed it at Mordin.

"This needs to be destroyed. It has information about me, about this universe and about mine. I really don't ever want this to get in to the wrong hands, or the right ones for that matter," I pulled my wallet out of my pocket, "Also have some Ids that need to get vaporized."

I walked over to the container Mordin had stacked the can pyramid upon. It was completely barren, he had hit every can. I stood my hard-drive on the surface, making a good target. I also pulled out my Ids, credit cards, Cineplex membership, and anything else in my wallet with my full name. I leaned the cards against the hard-drive, facing towards the line of fire.

"Ammo not incendiary. Will not completely destroy. Remains will need to be incinerated," Mordin commented, "Not utilitarian need being fulfilled? Symbolic? Seeking to distance self?" Mordin frowned at me, "Dramatic. Not necessary. Simpler to incinerate. Clean."

"A little drama never hurt anyone Professor," I said with a half grin, determined, "And we humans happen to like symbolism. Mostly. There's power in symbols." I calmly retrieved the gun and walked over to the firing line. The little shrine to my old life was nearly ten feet away. I supposed by that point, if no one had jumped out claiming I was on candid camera, this was, very likely, for real. And I had not woken up during the painful muscle spasms either, so almost certainly not a dream. Still when I raised the gun to the remainders of my identity, my name, I hesitated.

Then I took a deep breath, let it fill me, exhaled and pulled the trigger.


	4. Afterlife

Written 03/29/11

Disclaimer: I disclaim but for fear.

Author's note: Did I say the last chapter got away from me? I was obviously lying. This chapter got away from me, ran amok even. It was difficult to write, but very necessary, I hope it turned out alright. Thank you very much to thiefkingbakura1, Titus Tatius, OceanSyren, PikaShep and morbus-rus. Your words are inspirational and brought me much joy, this chapter is for you.

_Great things spring from causalities._

_-Disraeli_

Afterlife

After Mordin helped me deliver the remains of my former identity to their fiery doom, during which I am quite certain he attempted to peek at my Ids, we were summarily interrupted. Not that I held it against the salarian that seemed to have been shot, stabbed and partially seared.

"Needed now. Try not to get into trouble," Dr. Solus ordered me. Then he bustled off with the blue quarian asking her, "Vitals? Nature of attack? Known medical history? Quickly Tara!" The quarian, who it seemed was named Tara, answered him urgently and they rushed off dramatically. I doubted she was upset with him coming in on his day off anymore.

For a moment I lingered in the hallway. I was not really sure what to do with myself. I walked out into the waiting room, but retreated quickly after half-a-dozen faces of every species swung my way. It was a little disconcerting. I returned to where I had left my things, the storage shed that was sometimes a shooting gallery, and went through my bag. I had what was left of my laptop, a mostly empty water bottle, pencil case with various things inside and a notebook. I took a moment and flipped through the notebook, making sure there was nothing about Mass Effect written in the margins. I found a half-hearted attempt at drawing Garrus, but it resembled... well nothing really. Drawing had never been my strong suit.

I put my things back and sat down. I turned my omni-tool on and started playing around with the settings. Unsurprisingly, it was not long before I was exploring the extranet. Of course my first search was for Shepard. It was quite the fruitful search. There were several articles describing her heroics during the Skyllian Blitz, and a few dozen pictures of her receiving her medal. She looked almost exactly like my first paragon Shepard. Pale, cropped blond hair, long nose with cat shaped eyes, but the eye colour was off. I had played through with two paragon Shepards, one for Garrus and one for Thane. Garrus's Shepard, the blond, had deep blue eyes, Thane's strikingly green. This Shepard's eyes were green. That was interesting.

A little more digging showed that she had grown up following her parents around on space ships. She had enlisted when she was eighteen and even before her acts of heroism her record had been full of commendations. There was nothing that described her abilities beyond that, just a mention of her exceptional leadership skills. There were also a few Batarian articles, that my omni-tool translated, which villianized her thoroughly. Apparently there had never been an attack on Elysium and the various pirates were actually merchants, trying to sell their cargo. They had supposedly been attacked and forced to defend themselves. One article was demanding Shepard be tried for war crimes.

I saved some of the data to look at later, which took me a little while to figure out how to do, and started poking around the extranet. It was not long before I found myself on an antiques site, InterGalactic Antiques, looking at season one through _ten_ of Firefly. It had not gotten cancelled in this universe. I nearly had a religious episode I was so excited. I dimmed when I read the price for the remastered vids, about a thousand credits a season. Well, I had better things to do anyways.

I finally stopped wasting time at that point and checked the price for my laptop. With the hard-drive it would have been worth around ten thousand credits, depending on the buyer. Without, only two thousand. Maybe I could have thought that through better. A magnet could have worked and not cost me eight thousand credits. The price of symbolism.

But the extranet is a wonderful thing. My hard-drive may have met a toasty end in the incinerator, but the rest of my laptop was intact. And according to InterGalactic Antiques, worth enough credits to make it worth my while. Not that they had an office on Omega, but the market was full of opportunities for a smooth talking, fresh faced youth such as myself. Theoretically.

I ripped a page out of my notebook and wrote a note for Mordin.

_Dr. Solus,_

_Don't worry, I'll be back soon. Need to start making my fortune! I promise to stay out of trouble. I took the pistol, but I'll try not to need it. I'll come back to the clinic when I sell my "antique" laptop... Or in a few hours if I don't._

_See you soon,_

_Kelly_

I had to scratch out my last name. Some habits die hard I suppose. I took the gun and the holster Mordin had given me before we were interrupted. I arranged the holster behind me, on my waist, and practiced drawing the pistol a few times. It curled into itself in the holster, and pulling it out caused it to unfurl, with a speed that was less then instantaneous. I was, by far, not the fastest gun in the West. But discretion can be the greater part of valour. I took the lining out of my winter coat and pulled it on. It was a little warm, the coat was leather and it ended just above my knees, but it covered the gun. I twisted around vainly, trying to see if the gun showed through my jacket. I was unable to see a lump, but was unsure. I shrugged to myself, a gun would not be out of place on Omega, not worth worrying about. And the leather coat was a very plain design, I blended in a little more wearing it, then in just my shirt and jeans.

I grabbed the laptop and walked out of the storage room. The back alley between the building and the clinic was empty, except for a few more storage containers, these much less pristine than those inside. This time I walked past the clinic's back door, walking to the end of the alley that led out into the street. I took a step out and I looked left. I looked right. I made a face.

"Brilliant plan. _Absolutely_ brilliant Kelly," I muttered sarcastically, "Exactly where am I gonna find somewhere to sell this?" I sighed deeply and turned left on a whim, nearly running over an asari. I was not at my best that day. We both stopped just short of each other. She was blue, with white markings speckling her face. A hand taller than me, she was lithe and small boned.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry I didn't see you. I'm just not paying attention today," I said hopping back.

The asari laughed, and held her arms up, "It's okay, no harm done," The translator blinked on my omni-tool, translating her words for me, tickling in my ears. She went to keep walking, with a chuckle, and then a sudden urge struck me.

"Hey! Um, sorry," she looked back at me, less amused, "Do you know how I get to Harrot's Emporium?"

* * *

The asari had never heard of Harrot or his emporium, and mercantile elcors usually do stick out in a crowd. She did however direct me to the commercial strip. Right down the way from Afterlife, where she was coincidently heading for work. She was a dancer who worked there. She took pity on the poor lost human and walked with me. She was very friendly.

"So I'm guessing you're new to Omega, right?" she asked, flicking a blue hand down to the left, directing me away from an intersection.

"Uh, yeah. Just got off Earth actually, wanted to see the galaxy. I've heard good things about Omega," I paused, "Well not _good_ things actually, but I've heard about it."

She laughed, a tinkley feminine sound. I asked, "Are you from Omega?" I wrinkled my brow, "Is anyone from Omega actually?" I wondered.

"No, I don't think anyone has daughters on Omega. Well anyone with a choice," she smiled, "I'm from the Citadel, but I've lived on Omega for the past _fifty years_." My translator converted her measurement of time, the words sounding slightly mechanical in my ears. The omni-tool was not top of the line.

I blinked for a moment, but then remembered how lengthy asari life spans were as she led me up some stairs, "Right. Guess you know all about Omega then."

"As much as anyone."

I smiled, "Nah, I'm sure you're the resident expert. You've taken it upon yourself to be _my_ guide after all. How could you be anything less," I joked.

She smiled at me again, but with a different look in her eyes, something I was unable to place, "My name's Maru," she told me, and raised a brow in question.

"Kelly, my name's Kelly. It's wonderful to meet such a nice girl like you, in a place like this," I smiled. Something felt off, and I tried to subtly look around, without being rude, because, you know, Canadian. Everything seemed vaguely familiar, and she did not seem to be leading me into a trap. But I have been wrong before.

"You should come to Afterlife some time. There's nowhere else like it in the whole galaxy," she told me, still smiling. She gently tugged my arm towards a door. The automatic woosh had not lost its novelty for me yet.

"I'm sure Maru, but don't you need to be on some kind of list or something to get in?" she had let her hand linger on my elbow for a moment before turning into a crowd. I followed her closely, not wanting to lose her.

"Great thing about having a guide who works at Afterlife, she has connections. If you come by later, tell the bouncer your name, and that you're a friend of Maru's. That'll get you in," she promised, teasingly. Then she waved a hand in front of us and announced, "And here we are."

The massive screen with the techno dancing asari, is much more impressive in person, if I may say so. There was a long, multi-species line outside the doors, lots of flashing lights and the booming sound of the barely suppressed screaming techno music. And we were on the other side of the plaza, it promised to be much louder inside. Maru pointed down the hall from where we were, "There's a bunch of shops down that way. I'm sure someone will be selling whatever you're looking for."

"Actually looking to sell. I don't have work yet, so I need to pay for food somehow," I told her with sigh. Then I smiled, "Thanks again. You're my own personal hero right now. I would have been completely lost without you."

She smirked, "Especially since when you ran into me, you were headed in the opposite direction," her eyes flicked to the club and then back to me. She leaned forward and put a hand on my arm, "You'll come to Afterlife later right? Promise you'll come."

I started for a second, surprised, then smiled and nodded, "Of course. Least I can do, after your heroic efforts at saving me from myself."

She smiled that smile again, and stepped back from me, towards the club. "Good. I'll be waiting for you Kelly." She turned and started walking towards the club. I watched her go, head tilted a little in confusion. I had the feeling something just happened I did not entirely understand. She looked back when she reached the entrance stairs, she saw me standing there and smiled again. Then she positively hopped up the stairs and got the attention of the batarian bouncer. She gestured and pointed at me, the batarian glared and I gave a hesitant wave, feeling like a moron. Maru went past him and walked through the doors, turning around once more, mouthing something that may have been 'don't forget.' The batarian turned back to the people in line, ignoring me.

I stood there for a moment, then shook my head, "Moving on then," I whispered to myself. Laptop in hand I marched determinedly down towards the commercial sector. I smiled softly in recognition, and relief, at the architecture. I was much more familiar with this part of Omega, though it was not quite what had been in the game, it was close.

Taking care not to run into anyone else this time, I walked through another door and down a set of stairs, passing a few turians dressed in blue sun armour. They were decidedly less friendly looking than Maru had been. I schooled my face into blankness, with a little bit of contempt. Perfect look for surviving high school, not bad for dealing with Omega's citizens either. The hall to get to the shopping district was longer than in the game, but the district itself was much larger too. There were dozens of stores, booths and tables, with someone shouting for people to buy their merchandise, because it was clearly superior to the competitions' merchandise.

There was no trace of Harrot's Emporium, so that nixed that plan. I walked down into the crowd and tried getting a good look at some of the booths lining one wall. There was not much of any indication of where I should start. It was difficult to see through the crowd, and I stepped back trying to get a better look.

"Hey! Careful," a hand grabbed my arm, keeping me from stepping backwards. I tore out of the grip, spinning around. One of my hands belatedly went to my pistol, but before I even touched it, I saw what had happened. A salarian shopkeeper was set up right behind me, he had no table or booth, so he had laid his merchandise out on an old blanket on the floor. It was an assortment of bits and pieces of tech, that looked a lot like scrap metal to me. Scrap metal that I had been about to step on, trying to get a better look at the crowd.

"Sorry I didn't see you," he did have a sign propped up against the wall. It read, _Taelo's Buy and Sell_, "You a buyer?"

He was white with blue blotches and lighter blue stripes covering his visible skin. Taller than Mordin, he was just as lanky, but his scales were more prominent, more ridged. He still looked offended but offered, "I'm a buyer _and_ a seller. Mostly for tech, but if you've got something interesting, I'm open to suggestions."

I quirked an eyebrow at him, amused. He was acting like I had almost stepped on him personally. I hefted my laptop in front of me, "Is this interesting enough for you?"

There was instant recognition and shock on his face, and he reached for the laptop eagerly. I handed it to him a little reluctantly. I was really pushing my luck, trusting so many people on Omega. He examined it earnestly, opening and shutting it a few times, "This is ancient! Humans haven't used these in almost two hundred years. This is from before the Relay 314 Incident!" he glanced at me, and did a double take. He visibly forced himself to calm down and handed the laptop back to me, with visibly suppressed reluctance, "Missing data storage unit though. Not worth even half as much as a fully intact unit." He narrowed his eyes at me for a moment, calculating. He looked me over, a short human female, broad shoulders but a soft, smiling, open face. He smiled charmingly, "I can offer two hundred credits. I promise that will be the best offer you'll get today."

I swallowed a frown, and smiled back at the slimy snake oil selling salarian. With a barely restrained challenge in my voice I said, "_Really?_ And here I thought this was worth about, ten times that amount. But if you're sure that's the best I'll get for it, maybe I'll try someone else, just in case," he reacted so quickly, there was no need to even pretend I would walk away.

"Did I say two hundred credits? I meant to say six hundred credits. You can't expect to get its full worth on Omega you know," he shrugged, "And that really is the best offer you'll get. No one else is going to recognize what that is you know." He looked at me calculatingly, it was my turn to make the next move.

He had just tripled his asking price, I could smell the blood in the water. I flashed a smile, all my teeth showing for a second, and said, "But I'd bet you know someone who does know what this is, right? You could easily sell this for two thousand credits, to the right buyer. You're right, I probably won't find a similar offer here, _but,_" I drew out the 'but,' enjoying the look of alarm on the salarian's face, "I could always wait until I leave Omega," I bluffed. Then with a feigned look of consternation, "But it does get tiresome, carrying this old thing around. And I'd hate to end up breaking it before getting rid of it. I'll let you take it off my hands for fifteen hundred credits."

"Eight hundred."

"Twelve."

"One thousand?"

"Eleven hundred."

Taelo, sighed deeply. He ran a hand over his face, the picture of an ever suffering shop keeper. "Deal," he said reluctantly. I fished my chit out my pocket and held it out in one hand, my laptop in the other. He reached out with his chit and transferred the credits, then gingerly took the laptop from me. His look of despair had quickly dissolved, and he actually hugged the laptop to his chest, adoringly. I think I may have been able to hold out for more credits.

"Taelo!" a voice roared out from behind me. I spun around, stuffing my chit into my pocket. A dark green batarian was storming towards us, gun held at his side. He was wearing no armour, but dark clothing, the fine quality out of place in the crowd. He quickly passed me, closely enough so that I could see numerous scars on the back of his head, like something had raked the crown of his head with sharp claws.

"Taelo!" he shouted again and grabbed the salarian by the front of his shirt. He jerked the taller man down, to glare into his face. "Where's my money Taelo?" he asked darkly. When Taelo failed to answer quickly enough, the batarian shook the salarian and pushed him to the ground. Taelo fell over his merchandise, still cradling my laptop against his chest.

"Taelo you thrice-blinded piece of shit! You said you'd have my money days ago!" the batarian cursed at Taelo and swung his gun arm at him.

"Hey! Hold on there!" I said stunned. The batarian looked at me and sneered.

"Human, unless you've got the _steju_'s money, you had better get lost." I blinked and my translator program whispered in my ear. _Steju, a small amphibian. Native to Khar'shan, known for eating refuse of other animals._ _Common batarian slur for salarians._

I winced in disgust and quickly retaliated, "How much does he owe you?" I stood my ground, beating down the urge to run, carefully looking at neither Taelo nor the gun.

"Three thousand credits," he spat.

Taelo found his voice, "Ther-there's no reason to get excited," he stammered. He carefully slid the laptop behind him and stood up. "I just got a new opportunity! Big pay out, I just need a little more time," Taelo flinched back as the batarian pressed the muzzle of his gun against Taelo's throat.

"Wait! He's telling the truth," I said earnestly. The batarian looked back at me, clearly not happy that I had remained. "Listen, I just sold him some merchandise. When he finds a buyer, he'll have your money, right Taelo?" I took a small step towards Taelo. I tried to fix a smile on my face, but I was sweating. My gun virtually itched on my back.

"Huh? Yeah. Yeah right!" Taelo leaned back carefully from the gun at his throat, cringing under the batarian's glare. "I just need a little more time, and you'll get every credit."

"Or I could just take the merchandise and blow this spineless piece of shit away," the batarian suggested darkly.

"Not a good idea," I said quickly, "Think of the aggravation. To get your money back you'd have to track down a buyer yourself! You might even take a loss if you don't find the right buyer. Let Taelo do the work for you," I appealed to him carefully. Taelo looked to be about as dangerous as a bowl of jelly. My defence of him was purely instinctual, it never occurred to me to walk away.

The batarian pulled back from Taelo a little, wavering, but still angry. He challenged me, "If I do not kill him, all of my clients will try to take advantage. What would you propose I do, human?"

"And what if you frighten all your clients away? Show a little mercy. Taelo will never tell anyone," I promised, and Taelo nodded emphatically. "Taelo here is completely terrified of you, your reputation is safe and you'll get your money. Isn't that fair?" I asked using my most convincing, 'I'm reasonable, you're reasonable, let's all be reasonable' voice.

The batarian was still turning the proposition over in his mind. I held my breath and bit my tongue, tensely waiting for him to decide. If I pushed too hard he would refuse out of hand, but if I failed to convince him, he could shoot me too. Taelo glanced quickly at me then back to the batarian. He was surprised I had not made myself scarce as soon as the confrontation had begun. He was not aware that I had been making a habit of demonstrating a less than effective self-preservation instinct all day.

The batarian grimaced, but put his gun up. The moment I saw the murderous intent leave him, I veritably shuddered in relief. Taelo seemed to shrink into himself, collapsing as the tension left him. But the batarian was still angry, "Tomorrow Taelo. No more chances," then he turned his head at me and said, "You need to learn to mind your own business human." He looked like he wanted to say something else, but a sudden roar had rung out across the crowd.

The three of us whipped around towards the disturbance. The plaza had gone silent, and parted quickly, pulling back from the source of the animalistic anger. The krogan glared and the crowd quickly moved from his line of sight, no one wanted to be on the receiving end of his malevolent gaze. A gaze that was pointedly fixed on me.

It was the krogan who Mordin had shot. The one that had tried to mug me. The one who was currently adorned with two holes on either side of his head, less prominent and bloody then when last I had seen him last. The one who had started charging towards me, redoubling the efforts of the newly buzzing, and now screaming crowd to move out of his way.

"Aw shit," I cursed, "Gotta go now," I quickly told Taelo and the batarian. I barely glanced at their expressions of curiosity and shock, I was too busy spinning around back towards the way I had come, running for dear life.

_Incoming krogan, _I thought weakly to myself as I darted into the crowd. The krogan had been quite a distance from me before, but was quickly covering the ground between us. I shot frantic glances over my shoulder, watching him toss aside anyone who failed to evacuate his path before he encountered them. He must have thought I was the one who had shot him. I was the last person he had seen before losing consciousness, but really, overreact much?

I grabbed a banister and spun myself towards the passage that led to Afterlife's plaza. I launched myself down the path, cursing. There was no one else in the passage and no cover to hide behind. My jacket flared behind me, and my heart thundered in my throat. I jerked my head around looking for the krogan, still running. He was not in the passage. I pushed myself to the edge of the passage, hammering through the holograph on the door, attempting to coerce it into opening faster. I stumbled through the opening, startling an asari on the other side. I spared her a glance and dove for the side of the door. I hid at the side of the passage exit, and doubled over trying to breathe. I was not a runner, and my stomach and legs had already started burning with the sudden exertion of my flight. The pain was tempered by the adrenaline though, it was a heady feeling, but my mind felt sharp and quick. Also, terrified.

Swallowing the bile in my throat, I stuck my head back into the passage, looking for my pursuer. The passage was empty. I sighed and almost fell forward in relief. I must have closed my eyes for a moment in my relief. My spectacularly short lived relief. I opened my eyes and nearly jumped out of my skin. The krogan had appeared in the passage, and he was still charging after me.

My mistaken moment of relief had already cut into my head start. I leaped away from the door into the plaza. My blood thundered in my ears as I looked desperately for somewhere to hide, or for the way I had come from earlier. The thickness of the crowd swallowed me, concealing me, but it also concealed most of the plaza. Well, except for one part.

My muscles screamed at me, as I rushed the stairs for Afterlife. I pushed a few humans and salarians aside, and they cursed at my back. Taking the steps two at time, I made a beeline for the batarian bouncer. I grabbed his arm to get his attention, not relinquishing my grip when he immediately pulled away in disgust and anger. I dug my fingers into the muscles of his arm, pulling him toward me.

"Hey! I'm Maru's friend from before. I really need to go in and see her. You remember me from before right?" I asked breathily, urgent and forceful. I prayed in my mind to whoever might be listening.

"Yeah fine. Go in. Just get off of me! Maru's set starts in fifteen." He pulled away more forcefully, but I had already let go, bounding to the door, ignoring the curses of the line occupants. It glided open and the music hit me like a fist to the stomach. The music was so loud and violent it was decibels within the range of becoming tangible. I stole through the music, forcefully enduring the blasts.

Reaching the other end of the lobby, I stepped through the door into the club. If I had been less distracted, I would have been dismayed by the increase in the music's volume. I was preoccupied with scanning the club for somewhere to hide. The club which was as per course, was much larger than the game had shown. There was a small group of humans on the second level, crowded around the bar. I picked out the stairs and headed towards them, quickly but not running. I was vainly trying to control my gasps for breath, walking purposefully and ignoring any inquisitive looks my way.

I darted up the stairs and weaved around a group of dancers. I stopped short of the bar and the group of humans, taking a moment to devise a plan. I reached a hand up to my hair and pulled my hair tie off. Walking more calmly, feigning confidence, I shook out my long, curly, and now dark with sweat, hair, and approached the bar. I went to the end of the bar, peripheral to the main body of the group of humans. I stood next to two human men, who were in deep discussion with each other. The men failed to notice me, but the salarian bartender slid down the length of the bar towards me.

"Welcome to Afterlife! Do you desire a beverage?" the salarian asked jovially.

"Um..." I hesitated, "Do you have anything sweet, but non-alcoholic? I need to hydrate after all that dancing," I smiled, attempting to be charming. I was really dying of thirst, and having a drink in hand would help me blend into the crowd if the krogan managed to follow.

"One moment please," the salarian turned around and opened a door under the counter. He reached in searchingly, and after a few moments pulled out a clear bottle with a bright blue liquid inside. "Divine Aqua, asari athletic drink. Sweet, hydrating, and humans don't experience any intoxication from ingestion. Chit please?"

I placed my chit in his outstretched palm and claimed the drink. The top of the bottle hinged off at the press of my thumb, with a click, and I sniffed the drink. It smelled like ripe peaches. The salarian pressed my chit into a slot in the terminal behind the counter. He passed it back to me after a moment, the chit had lit up and then gone dark again. I read the counter on the chit before pushing it back into my pocket. It read eleven thousand and ninety two credits. The drink had cost eight credits.

The salarian moved on down the bar, out of reach when it occurred to me to ask where to find Maru. Instead I regarded the drink warily for a moment, but my thirst won out over my cautiousness. I tipped the bottle back and took a long satisfying drink, it was heavenly. I almost downed half the bottle in my first quaff, the run from the krogan had dried me out.

Thinking of the reason for my thirst, I turned my back to the bar, leaning against it, still trying to maintain my veneer of casualness. I could see the main entrance clearly from my perch, and most of the main floor of the club. I was on the second elevation of the club, the first level was covered with dancing people, and a central stage. Asari were dancing on the stage, and in the crowd. There were also smaller stages peppered throughout the crowd, similarly adorned. Along the walls, which were the ends of the elevation I was standing on, there were some tables, some of which also had dancers on them. The rest of the club seemed to be a series of elevations along the perimeter of the dance pit, populated with bars and private booths and tables. I was on the first elevation, but there appeared to be two more above me. The stairs to go up a level were next to where I had come up, forming the typical zigzag stair archetype, but in a very fancy modern techno way.

I leaned back against the bar, tipping my head back. Across the bar I could see Aria's private box with its blacked out windows. It loomed across the back wall, flanked by two stair cases and matching guards. The windows flashed reflections of the techno lights that danced across the club, highlighting a few more dancers on balcony that edged around the dark windows. I caught myself staring at one the dancers and looked away. Their movements were very... rhythmic.

I banished these thoughts with curses as I turned back to the lobby door. The krogan had made it past the bouncer. He stood in the middle of the doorway and turned his head, scanning the crowd of dancers from side to side. I shrunk back and turned my back to the door. A small crazy voice in my head sang, _if I can't see you, you can't see me_. Of course that was the perfect time for me to notice the conversation next to me was quickly growing in intensity, and the voices increasingly hostile and loud.

"Listen Pierre, just listen okay! I'm your best friend and-" the blonde was pleading with the other man, a dark brunette. Both were tall, but the blonde had the lean muscles of a runner, while the darker man was ripcord thin, angular, and seemingly quite angry.

"_Ma soeur_? My sister David?" his words came out dark and heavily accented in French, "How could you think that I could accept thiz? My _bon ami_ would not ask thiz!"

The blonde leaned towards him, a soft friendly face, "I only ask because you're my best friend man. I'm really serious about her man, I think I love her."

That was definitely not the right thing to say, the darker man pulled back from the confessor, his face was twisted in agonized shock. One of his hands reached towards a sidearm strapped to his leg.

I glanced back towards my krogan and the then the stairs. There was no way I could make it the stairs without him taking notice, and if these two broke out into a fight, the krogan would notice for certain. Taking another quick gulp of my drink I acted, rashly that is.

"Oh hey! Excuse me!" I flung myself between the two men, startling them. I smiled brightly at the two of them, leaning against the bar between them. Clutching my drink in one hand, and the edge of the bar in the other, I feigned a loss of balance.

"Sorry boys! I was about to go back to the party, but I don't think my feet are ready yet," I giggled. I twisted towards the dark angry man, trying to distract him. I gave him an obvious look from head to toe, and a slightly different smile, "Or maybe my feet had a different party in my mind," I said, trying not to wince at how horrific I sounded.

The darker man looked down a sharp nose at me, clearly not amused, "We were in the middle of a conversation _Mademoiselle_," he spoke sharply to me, the last word clearly malicious.

I smiled obliviously up at him, trying to keep his attention, "I heard! Your best friend and your sister! _C'est magnifique non?_ What could be better?" I leaned towards him conspiratorially, trying not to take it personally when he leaned away, "I mean if he's your best friend then he's a better choice than... Well for instance, your worst enemy! Or even just a good friend! It could be much worse, _oui_?"

The tall man blinked at me owlishly, I glanced quickly to the front of the room, the krogan was still standing there, but he was looking at the other side of the club intently. I refocused on Pierre, desperately praying the krogan would fail to notice this little melodrama.

Quick to accept an advocate when presented, the blonde leaned over me, bracing a hand on my shoulder. A quick glance skyward confirmed that he was wearing one of the most doleful puppy dog eyes expressions I had ever seen. He pleaded, "Exactly Pierre! You know me! I would never do anything to hurt you or Anna! I've known you both since before we ever came to Omega. I've always looked out for her, and she looked out for me. You've always taken care of us man, and I would never ever take advantage of Anna! You know that."

Pierre's eyes snapped up from me towards David's, glaring hotly for a moment. But the glare faded as he sighed morosely, "If you harm her David I will murder you."

David smiled brightly, "Thank you Pierre! I told Annabelle you'd approve," Pierre's glare argued otherwise, but David continued mischievously, "And you should be rewarded for your understanding."

Then with a little push on David's behalf I found myself pressed against Pierre. Surprised, and frankly shocked, I had to grab Pierre's shirt to keep from falling, and he reflexively caught me. I caught my balance and pulled back, quickly glancing around. David was quickly retreating towards the stairs, a large smile on his face. The krogan had also begun moving, but not towards my side of the room, and not up a tier. He was shuffling along the side of the dance floor, still peering into the crowd.

Pierre had not relinquished his hold on me entirely yet, his hands were still lightly perched on my arms. "Forgive me _ma Cherie_," he said, now with a small dark smile of his own, "I was distressed for my sister, but that does not excuse my rudeness. Allow me to purchase you a drink?"

I backed up and waved my bottle at him, trying to smile disarmingly. I carefully confessed, "Oh I already have a drink, don't worry about me." The danger had passed for now, but the krogan could turn this way in his search any moment now, he would certainly notice if I made a scene.

Pierre's smile deepened at my new found reluctance, and he chuckled, "Well then you must finish this one with me and allow me to purchase your next one."

I froze for a moment, desperately searching my mind for a way out. Then I broke into an easy smile. "Sure! That sounds great!" I acquiesced, "This day is going to much better than it started," I admitted with another giggle. I concealed a cringe at the action.

"Don't tell me a _belle fille _such as yourself has had a bad day?" he asked charmingly, "Beautiful women should not have a care in the galaxy."

I was torn for a second. I really needed to flee the premises, but I was always weak when called beautiful. But my less than active self-preservation instinct finally moved its arse off the couch and smothered the desire to give into his advances.

I struck a plaintive pose and woefully told him my tale. With a light girlish voice, I feigned a bubbly airhead persona, "Well the day is just going so well now," I said with a significant glance at Pierre, "But it started out much worse. I found out my boyfriend was running around behind my back with an asari whore! So I dumped him, told him I never wanted to see him again. I threw him and his stuff out of the apartment. But he wouldn't go away, so I snuck out the back, but he's been chasing me ever since! I came in to the club to hide, but I think he's out on the dance floor looking for me. It's not my fault he got shot in the face!"

Pierre's face as he listened to me had run a gauntlet of emotions. At first sympathetic and consoling, then enraged at my fictional boyfriend's infidelity, and when I said I threw him out, satisfaction. But when I confessed to being chased, it had turned to indignant fury, but then faltered when I mentioned the shot to the face.

"_Ma Cherie_, you are a very brave woman, but how did your traitorous lover come to think you shot him in the face?" he asked confused, but still tinged with indignation.

I smothered a dark anticipatory grin. It would just be a few more pushes to get him to do what I wanted. Instead I pouted at him, "I was there when it happened! But I didn't do it! It's not like it hurt him anyhow..." I trailed petulantly.

His face was twisted in confusion then, "But how was he not harmed by a shot to the face?"

"Huh? Oh, he's a krogan, they're tough like that. I don't know why he's so upset about it. I mean he gets shot all the time! And it's not like he doesn't shoot a lot of people himself either. I don't get what the big deal is anyway," I pouted at Pierre.

Pierre however had backed away entirely, eyes wide, a mix of horror and terror on his face. He jerked his head from side to side, then twisted around violently, searching for a krogan on the dance floor.

Thankfully for Pierre's poor heart, the krogan was no longer in sight. This did little to abate his alarm though. He turned back to me and said, the fear thickening his accent, "I'm afraid as lovely as it was meeting you, I have something to speak with David about, that I completely forgot about! _Adieu_!" His farewell was quick and he spun away, hurrying towards the stairs. I smothered a grin as he broke into a run when he spotted a random krogan break through the crowd. A few moments later he was through the door of the lobby, gone from my sight. I did laugh then, the look on his face had been delicious. I felt terrible for being so mean, but it was hilarious!

Then from behind me a woman's voice came, "Well, aren't you unusual? I was sure that was going to end in blood and body parts."


	5. Aria

Written 05/01/11

Disclaimer: I once claimed to own Mass Effect... it did not end well.

_Would you do the whole thing all over again,  
Knowing what you know now, knowing what you knew then?_

_-Nightmare Before Christmas_

Aria

I turned around slowly. I had the sinking feeling in my stomach, that I had just escaped the frying pan, only to jump into the fire. I regarded Aria with a carefully controlled face, hiding my inner panic. She was leaning casually against the bar, one arm draped gracefully across a partially bared midriff, the other hand delicately cradling a very expensive looking drink. She was dressed in what could be termed, casual futuristic dominatrix chic, fancy with lots of leather straps, that exposed large gapes of her violet skin.

"That little family drama has been brewing for months. I was sure when David finally told the Frenchman about his affair with the man's sister, my cleaning crew would be scraping their blood off the floors for weeks. I instructed my guards not to interfere, because I was sure their bodies would only add to the carnage." Aria told me casually, nonplussed. She sounded like the potential violence had been as interesting to her as the weather.

My mouth had gone dry. I had not anticipated meeting Aria, not like this. I swallowed, wetting my lips. "Those two? No, they were harmless. Pierre was just a little upset, understandably. Just a big brother who was worried about his sister." If she could be casual, so could I. She was the most powerful person on Omega, I was... not. Still, I could do casual, despite the gross difference in the playing field.

She looked more directly at me then, her purple gaze was piercing, heavy. "They're Blue Sun. Did you know? David is one of the best mechanics on Omega. Well, best human, most salarian mechanics won't work with Blue Suns though. Eclipse doesn't like salarians working for other mercenary groups."

Well a mechanic did not sound especially dangerous to me. Which left Pierre. I had been standing straight as board, tensely regarding the asari, squared off against Omega's queen. I forced myself to relax, resting my arm against the bar, leaning, I asked her, "And his best friend? Pierre? He's also Blue Sun?"

Her mouth twisted into a small mean smile, her eyes glittered with secrets. "Pierre is mostly known as the Frenchman. He's well known on Omega, in the right circles," she gave me a look that clearly questioned if I belonged to any such circle. "He's an interrogator for Blue Sun. And a threat. He supposedly knows how to keep someone _alive_ for days." Her tone clearly implied that those days would not be pleasant ones.

Well wasn't that a revelation? I had just flirted with one of Omega's best known torturers. Out of every person I could meet on Omega, it was the Frenchman, how ominous. And I had fed him a lie about krogan stalker, a krogan ex-boyfriend stalker. Well it had seemed like a good idea at the time, but I doubted it would endear me to him if he realized the truth. "Huh," I forced myself to reply, my voice only a little choked, "Didn't know that."

"And I didn't know that the Frenchman was afraid of krogan. But now I do, thanks to you." She turned her powerful gave away from me, staring out onto the crowd. It was like an enormous weight had been lifted from my chest. She looked at the sea of people with an inscrutable expression on her face. I swallowed some of my drink, lamenting that I decided against alcohol. I could feel my long suppressed panic welling up beneath by chest. I pressed it down, steeling myself.

"Isn't everyone afraid of krogan?" I asked rhetorically, trying to be humorous. Then changing tact I reached out a hand to her, "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Kelly, it's a pleasure to meet you..." I trailed off at the end, feigning ignorance. Hopefully I could keep myself from being found out. Again.

She gave me a side long glance, clearly amused now. "Do you really not know who I am?" I smiled pleasantly at her, and shook my head. She laughed, a rolling, deep and sensual laugh. I felt the sound crawl up my skin, I shivered involuntarily, but not unpleasantly. Aria was sex in heels, and she knew it.

She turned her entire body towards me then, a roll of her hips and a graceful dip of her shoulder. She set her drink on the bar and then grasped my hand. "I am Aria," she told me. The way she said her name, it implied so much more. I knew who she was of course, but the force of personality behind her voice, the weight of her gaze upon me, she might as well of said she was a goddess.

Her handshake was warm and firm, and like the rest of her, achingly elegant. When she let my hand go, I dropped it to my side like a hot iron. Touching her felt wrong, dangerous, like petting the tiger at the zoo. The hairs on my arms had begun to stand on end. I ignored the sensation, and asked, "You own the club then Aria?" I said trying to maintain the visage of ignorance. My instincts were torn. Half of me wanted to run away, screaming. My other half was sure if I ran, she'd give chase, and wanted me to freeze. I needed to keep her from suspecting me, from seeing me as a threat, or prey.

Seemingly I was successful. Aria smirked at me, "I own Omega, I am Omega. I am the proprietor, manager, CEO, queen if you're feeling dramatic." It was not quite the speech she gave Shepard, though the words were similar. She claimed Omega casually, like a pretty bauble.

I did not have to pretend to be impressed. "Wow. So you're the law then? Your will be done and all that." Flattering the most dangerous and powerful woman in the star system, maybe the galaxy, couldn't hurt. I hoped.

She smiled, but her eyes were cold. I could feel the gaze on me again. I wonder if she channelled biotics through her eyes. The weight of her gaze was certainly tangible enough. "Omega has one ruler, and one rule," I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from saying it with her, "Don't fuck with Aria."

Four words should not be able to sound quite that menacing, not that promising. She was still looking at me, clearly waiting for a response. "Good rule. Easy to remember. No loopholes or chance for misinterpretation," I said, a little breathily.

She seemed to like that. Her smile lost some of its menace, but there was still cruelty in her face. "I'm so glad you think so." Her expression changed then, so quickly I may have gotten whiplash. Her smile was mocking now, and her eyes contemptuous. "Was it true? Were you really fucking that krogan who was following you?"

I blinked, startled. "What? Oh no. Definitely not. I like my pelvis bone as it is, thank you very much. Not ground into a fine powder as the case would be." I said incredulously, my surprise overcoming my fear.

Aria let loose a short peal of genuine startled laughter. She swallowed it quickly though. "So you did shoot him then?" She seemed genuinely interested then. Fancy that, I had Aria's attention. But I suppose there was a lack of young human females being pursued by angry, violent krogan.

"Regretfully no. If I had, I'd be more understanding about this entire being hunted down business. I really was just in the wrong place in the wrong time. It's my theme today." I confessed to her with a shrug. I could have claimed to shoot the krogan, but it seemed that trying to lie anymore than necessary to Aria would end badly for me. I was a good liar, but part of that was knowing when to lie and when not to.

"So do you actually know how to use that gun? Because if it's just for show, you should consider wearing it somewhere more visible," she suggested with a shrug.

"I wouldn't carry it if I didn't know how to use it," I frowned. Apparently I had done a less then apt job of concealing my pistol after all.

"Well then if you don't want the krogan following you for the rest of your life, perhaps you should use it." She picked up her drink and sipped, arching her neck. Her outfit exposed the purple expanse of her neck, down to her navel. Unthinkingly my eyes followed the line of her outfit, from collarbone to hip, it drew the eye. Aria smirked at me. She had noticed where my eyes had lingered.

Blushing I retorted, "He's already been shot in the face, and all it did was piss him off. My game plan seems to have been successful so far. Not bad for my first day on Omega. I'm still alive," I said, trying to change the subject. "The day surely could have been better, but it could've been worse too." Then I frowned thoughtfully, "I guess Blue Sun isn't the best group to seek employment with now. I'd hate to have to ruin a perfectly good first impression. That was some of my best work."

"Interesting first day." Aria said nonchalantly. She had turned her attention back on the crowd. I took a moment to briefly look around. The krogan was nowhere in sight, thankfully. Talking to Aria had completely usurped all of my concern for my pursuer, which was less than healthy. But judging by the various batarians and turians in black armour that all seemed to have appeared at the same time as Aria, it was doubtful that even the krogan could have done much. They were all hanging back, unobtrusively, but still noticeable. They were looking for any threat to Aria, scanning the crowd, one at least was staring at me, warily holding his weapon, but not quite pointing it at me. I greatly desired to give the him no reason to point the weapon at me, it looked like it would hurt. I was impressed with how quickly her guards had appeared, and impressed by just how intimidating they were. Faces and bodies hidden within black armour, they were a malevolent and authoritative presence.

"Did you come to Omega to join the Blue Suns?" Aria asked me. She was beginning to lose interest in me. She was staring out across the crowd, and she seemed utterly bored. For a moment I debated letting myself be dismissed, blending back into the crowd. For some reason, I was not keen on the idea of disappearing into the crowd. For a moment my eyes darted back to the guards. They looked so strong...

"No, not really. Blue Suns don't seem all that impressive now. But I've always wanted to be a warrior, a knight. Swearing fealty to a liege, defending the lands, chivalry and glory and all that. Always thought I'd look good in armour. Yet there just aren't that many queens around these days. I only know of one in fact... So if I were, feeling dramatic, would you feel like accepting any oaths of fealty?" I stood up straight as I asked, and faced her fully. About then a small voice in my head starting screaming at me, warning me what I was doing was a very bad idea, but I pushed it aside.

Aria turned her head towards me, slowly, controlled. If I had thought her gaze was heavy before, this was nearly impossible to bear. I could almost feel her brushing across my mind, heavy and intense. The sensation brought a sweat to my brow, but I did not squirm under her scrutiny... much.

"Exactly what would such an oath entail? Because dramatics aside, I don't have much use for knights," Aria told me evenly.

I took a deep breath and looked into Aria's violet eyes. I told her, "If I were to swear such an oath, I would promise my loyalty and my strength, such as it is. I would carry out your will, and protect what was yours. And all dramatics aside, I'd hope to be fairly compensated for my service, and receive protection and loyalty in kind." I was certainly gambling. It was a very impulsive move to make, but I could almost feel the pull of fate. Aria was the most powerful being on all of Omega, maybe throughout the Terminus system. If I wanted to become strong, there was no one else in the verse better to learn from. Except maybe Shepard herself, but that was beside the point. Of course I was also being quite rash, but it had been a long day.

Aria was quiet for a moment, her face was bland, but her eyes held me, pinned beneath her gaze. Her face was unreadable, and her eyes incomprehensible. I could feel a burst of panic bubbling up from my stomach. I clenched a metaphorical fist around the fear and thrust it deep into my mind. I straightened my shoulders and met Aria's evaluating gaze. My mouth was a tight line and my jaw clenched, my muscles tightened with wary tenseness. Despite thrusting away my panic, my instincts were still clamouring for me to fight or flee, the latter being more strongly advocated.

And then Aria cocked her head with a blink and then nodded, but more to herself then me I think. She lifted a hand and beckoned to a guard with a small movement. A tall turian, covered in the black armour but for his head, separated himself from the other guards and went to Aria's side. Her eyes flickered to him and then at me. Then she tilted her head back towards the crowd looking at neither of us.

"Boros needs a new guard for his sixth squad. Take this human to him. Tell him I said she's his new guard," Aria told the guard without looking at him.

"Yes Aria," the turian said, deferentially. He looked at me not Aria when he spoke. After enduring Aria's gaze, I was hardly fazed by his own version of a scrutinizing look. He nodded towards the back of the room and then turned and started walking. I hesitated and glanced at Aria. She half looked at me, the expression on her face asking 'Well what are you waiting for? You asked for this.'

I tore away from Aria, trotting to catch up with the turian. He glanced at me when I came abreast him. I followed him down back onto the first level, my krogan pursuer was still missing, thankfully, and we went past the throngs of dancers. He led me towards Aria's box, which had its own guards on its stairs. But before we could reach the stairs or get within earshot of the guards he spun on me, looking down at me from his impressive height.

"Are you sure you want to do this kid?" the turian asked me, "You can still walk away now, but you go up those stairs and there's no going back. Captain Boros will make you an A-Sec guard and put you on a squad, and Aria will own you, body and spirit. If you disobey her orders, the Captain's orders, or your Lieutenant's orders they'll kill you. If you try to leave, they'll kill you. And it won't be just them, you'll be the enemy of anyone who counts Aria among their enemies, and that's a lot of spirits be damned people."

"I'm not afraid, I'm sure I want this. I don't want to die, but I'm not afraid of death. At least, not so much I'm afraid to live," I answered honestly.

"Joining A-Sec won't just be dangerous to your life kid, it twists the spirit too. You'll see things, do things, that you never thought you would do. Whatever lines you thought you would never cross, Aria will push you over them. And what's worse, you'll believe that it's right," the turian told me. His voice carried weariness that hinted he had endured the very things he warned me of. He was offering me a last chance, a last warning.

"Thanks for trying to help, but I know what I'm doing," I told him. And it was almost true.

He shook his head at me, "Figures the first human A-Sec guard would be some impulsive kid. Young humans are just as bad as turians that way," he sighed.

I smiled at him, amused. Then wondering I asked, "Um, what exactly does A-Sec mean? I've heard of C-Sec, but I thought that was just the Citadel."

He looked at me, the plates above his eyes furrowing, and then threw his head back with a bark of laughter. "You're really fresh on Omega aren't you? Fresh off the boat, and getting involved in this..." he shook his head, as if banishing his unwanted thoughts, "It's a joke kid. It means Afterlife Security, or Aria's Security. Aria calls on A-Sec for her _special_ jobs. We're the servants of Aria, her eyes, ears and hands on Omega. And _you_ just volunteered." He turned towards the box, his head shaking. He muttered lowly to himself, "Funniest thing I heard all damn week."

_Well that's not promising._ I thought to myself. And then I followed him up the stairs, ignoring the glares from the other guards, treating one or two to a patented Canadian smile.

What happened after that... It was the stuff stories are made of.

**Author's note:** _My apologies for the length of time this took to write. I had to deal with final exams and papers, and found it difficult to portray Aria. I'm also posting the first chapter of the next story at the same time as this one. I'd like to thank you all for this first part of Critical Mass and specifically my reviewers, theifkingbakura1, Titus Tatius, Kudara, morbus-rus, Lifeiswierd05,Lady Kopaka and Anonymoose._ _Your reviews were all amazing, long and short, and if not for all of you, I would have desisted this insanity long ago._

_ Critical Mass: A Sec was really the prologue to the main event. The next in the series __**Critical Mass: Blood and Bone**__, can be found on my page, unless you read this impossibly quick and haven't given me a chance to upload it yet, if so you win a cookie. Critical Mass: A Sec was the first story I've written in a long while, it feels like I've been released from a decade of writer's block and my muse has returned with a vengeance. I can only hope you'll all enjoy where this leads us._


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